


What is Earned and What is Given

by Cdelphiki



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Batman #657, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Tim Drake Gets a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24439000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cdelphiki/pseuds/Cdelphiki
Summary: The arrival of Damian was quite the shock for Bruce. But that wasn't the only shock of the day.  When Tim declared Damian should 'earn' Bruce's love, like 'everyone else,' Bruce realized he had a lot more work ahead of him than he originally thought.Or: Bruce makes sure Tim knows he's loved.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 30
Kudos: 579





	What is Earned and What is Given

Bruce felt like an idiot for not noticing sooner.

The moment the words came out of Tim’s mouth, Bruce realized how stupid he truly was. How absolutely oblivious he was to a _major_ problem.

It was something he should have seen. Something it was his _job_ as father and protector of this child to notice. To fix.

Was he really that terrible? That bad at showing his love? Didn’t Tim _know_ Bruce loved him? Unconditionally? Tim could join Jason in his criminal empire and Bruce would _still_ love him, just as he _still_ loved Jason. Even if it hurt him.

Because that’s what love was.

Unconditional.

But apparently Tim didn’t know that.

Because when Bruce said the child Talia had dumped on them earlier in the evening deserved some love and his respect, _regardless_ of whether he was actually Bruce’s son, Tim responded with a phrase Bruce was not expecting.

“Then let him _earn_ it like everyone else!”

Bruce froze, letting Tim’s words replay in his head.

Tim must not have noticed, because he scoffed and continued on to update Bruce on his current _case._ Granted, it was an apparent hostage situation involving the mayor, but Bruce wanted to rewind a little.

It was like Tim thought none of the concerns he had just shared with Bruce—the fear he was going to be replaced or thrown aside in favor of a biological child. A massive _brat_ of a possible biological child, at that—was important at all.

Tim understood _he_ was important to Bruce, right? Even more than any case they could possibly get?

But before Bruce could find his words, even find a place to _start_ with everything that needed addressing, Tim finished his report with a petulant, “I figured you could handle it by _yourself.”_

 _What?_ What had Bruce _done?_ Why was Tim mad-

“Tim!” he shouted, as Tim stormed off, stomping his feet across the cave, moving too quickly to catch easily.

This was _not_ happening.

Bruce lowered his cowl and rubbed at his temples, still mulling over Tim’s words long after he’d left the cave.

How the _hell_ was he going to fix this?

\- - -

Damian was a massive brat.

And, actually, that was an understatement.

Bruce _hated_ himself for losing his cool and _screaming_ at the boy. _Screaming._ Son or not, that was no way to speak to a child of eight.

No matter how _infuriating_ he was.

If Damian _were_ his son, then they had their work cut out for them.

And Bruce would need to clear a few things up with Tim… before the boy could stew on his destructive thoughts too long.

Hadn’t Bruce been clear? He knew he wasn’t the best when it came to words, but hadn’t he _showed_ Tim how much he loved him?

Apparently not.

Dick knew, though. He _knew_ Dick knew. When he adopted him, Dick had said as much. Bruce… had been a coward then. Unable to get the words out of his mouth, even if the sentiment was written all over the piece of paper he’d presented his son at the time.

Because that’s how Bruce had seen him. For _years._ Regardless of what the papers said.

Jason… Jason was Jason. He was almost certain Jason knew when he was little. When he was Robin, still living with Bruce. Happy and healthy and full of wisecracks and wonder. _That_ Jason knew he was loved, Bruce was sure.

Then Bruce had failed him in a major way, and it was unlikely Jason would ever forgive him. _Should_ ever forgive him, if Bruce were being honest.

And now, the man that ran around as Jason… Bruce had no doubt in his mind that he _was_ Jason, but his memories seemed… distorted. Possibly the fault of the Lazarus pit. Maybe one day he’d find a cure to it and _fix it_ for his boy.

But that was completely irrelevant. It didn’t matter, in that moment.

After Jason _died,_ and Tim came into his life, Bruce had vowed to be _better._

There for a while, he thought he’d been succeeding. Tim _knew_ Bruce loved his sons unconditionally.

Why… why hadn’t he connected that to himself?

Bruce found Tim in the kitchen, glaring off at the wall in front of him as he mechanically ate some food. It looked like Alfred had fixed him up a plate of the same thing Damian had thrown at the wall.

He chose to ignore the way Tim was pointedly ignoring _him,_ and went to the fridge for something to eat. There were quite a few choices in there, so it took him a good minute to make up his mind as he stared at everything. In the end, he chose a simple orange, and walked over to the island, taking the seat right next to Tim to eat.

All Tim did was scowl and take another bite of his potatoes.

They sat in silence for several long minutes, during which time Bruce peeled his orange.

The orange was being difficult, though. What Bruce was _really_ doing was picking at the peel, getting tiny bits off at a time. When he finally got a hole large enough to get at one of the wedges inside, he changed strategy and ripped it right out, heedless of the mess he was making on the counter.

It took Tim exactly three minutes to break.

“Why are you doing it that way? Take all the peel off first you psychopath.”

A smile tugged at Bruce’s lips as he jabbed at the orange again, forcing another wedge out through the opening he’d created. Orange juice dripped out, only furthering the mess on the counter. Alfred was not going to be amused.

“You’re unbearable,” Tim whined in response.

“Tim,” he said, letting the affection he felt seep into his voice. He _had_ to do this. There was no way around it. Tim clearly would _not_ read his mind the way Dick could, finishing his sentences for him. Before he could get nervous about it, he rushed out, “You know I love you, right?”

“Bruce,” Tim whined, looking away. Tilting his head so Bruce couldn’t see his face. It didn’t keep Bruce from noticing how pink his cheeks were turning. Or hearing the smile in his voice.

“It’s just, you said earlier, Damian should ‘earn’ my love, like ‘everyone else.’”

Tim turned to him, cocking his head a little as he scrutinized Bruce. Like he were trying to figure out _why_ this was something Bruce was bringing up again. Why Bruce had picked _that_ sentence in particular to discuss.

“You know you didn’t earn my love, right?”

Hurt flickered across Tim’s face, as the redness in his cheeks finished fading, being replaced by a paler complexion.

That most certainly was _not_ what Bruce meant.

Shit.

“That came out wrong,” he said, rubbing the back of his wrist against his face for a second. He had orange juice all over his hands. It was a little gross.

“Bruce,” Tim said slowly, shaking his head, “you’re making no sense.”

“I know,” he exhaled, dropping the mangled mess of orange on the counter, “Look. How-How do you think you ‘earned’ my love?”

Tim leaned over, toward the paper towel roll Bruce couldn’t reach, and tore him off a sheet. “I don’t know,” he said, as he handed it to Bruce, “Like, by not being an asshole and helping n’stuff.”

“I appreciate that you’re not an asshole,” Bruce said, smiling a little. He had a feeling he was going to come to appreciate that a _lot_ more in the coming days. Perhaps years… “But that’s not- I love _you,_ Tim.”

“I know, Bruce.” The way Tim nearly whined those words and turned his head to hide a cute little smile made Bruce wrap his arm around him and squeeze. Just for a moment, before he let go again.

“What I mean is, I love _you,_ not what you do for me. Or how you’re useful. Just—You.”

Tim finally looked up at him, _finally_ making eye contact as he searched Bruce’s face. There was confusion there, in Tim’s eyes. And Also the barest hint of tears.

Bruce hoped he was getting through.

“You’re funny and clever,” he explained, wrapping his arm back around to simply hold his son. Maybe help him understand a little better. Alfred and Dick both were always criticizing him for being too distant.

May that is what had caused this…

“And you’re so much fun to be around. Your mere presence brightens my day. I love it when you skip into the dining room, first thing in the morning, as peppy and upbeat as ever. Even when I’m grumpy and still mad at the world for _having_ mornings.”

Tim smiled fully and rested his head against Bruce, letting him continue on uninterrupted. Hopefully soaking in the words. Committing them to memory.

Bruce would write them down for him, if necessary. He wanted his boy to _remember_ this.

“I love your smile, too. Especially when you grace _me_ with it, but also when we see dogs out and about. Or when you see a funny meme on your phone. Or you get a text from you-know-who.”

“Bruce,” Tim said, ducking his head a little.

“And... I love your concentrating face. You stick your tongue out, a little, when you’re really focused. And I love—“

“Bruce,” Tim whined this time, his face an even brighter shade of red, “I get it—“

“I was serious earlier,” he cut in, wanting to finish his point before Tim could dismiss the conversation, “When you asked if Damian was going to change anything between us. He _won’t,_ because you are _my_ son, no matter what, and I love you. Always and forever, _no matter what.”_

The only indicator of what was to come was a single sniff. One sniffle. The next thing Bruce knew, Tim threw his arms around him, squeezing tightly as he absolutely _wept_ into his chest.

“Okay?” Bruce asked, a little wetly, as he squeezed Tim back as much as he dared.

“Okay,” he confirmed through his tears, nodding his head against Bruce, “I-I love you, too.”

Resting his cheek in Tim’s hair, Bruce smiled. “I know you do, chum.” He had never doubted that for a second.

It only took Tim three minutes, tops, to sit up and scrub at his face. The tears already done and over. He reached over and got himself a paper towel, using it to fully wipe his face, smiling a little as he did.

“So… We should probably go rescue the mayor, huh,” Tim said, after one more sniff, not at all hiding his bright, content smile.

“I think so. It would be a little irresponsible of us, if we didn’t,” Bruce agreed, standing and walking with Tim, one arm still slung across his shoulders.

It wasn’t until they were in the Batmobile, speeding to Blackgate Prison, did Tim speak again.

“So. If this kid really is yours…”

He trailed off, but Bruce could hear the question.

Bruce was asking himself the same question. What _was_ he going to do?

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, “If he is mine, he deserves to have me in his life. We’ll… We’ll have to figure out how to… tame him, I guess. For lack of a better word.”

“He does seem a little _entitled.”_

“I’m sure we’ll manage,” Bruce said, shrugging. There wasn’t much more he could do. “He’ll have two great examples of older brothers, won’t he?”

“Yeah, if we don’t kill him first,” Tim said, grinning, that slight hint of pink showing through again, “Guess we’ll need to tell Dick, huh?”

“Yes. I’m sure he’ll want to know about this development.”

Just as Bruce pulled up to Blackgate, ready to shift into mission-mode, Tim said with a little awe in his voice, “You know, I’ve always wanted a little brother.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bruce still had no idea how they were going to handle the whole Damian-thing, but at least something good had already come of it. He was glad he had a chance to clear this up for Tim.

Glad he’d been made aware it was a problem, in the first place.

In the future, he’d have to be a little clearer with his kids.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh no, look at that, now Tim isn't home while Bruce is out dealing with the hostage situation. Now how will Damian try to kill him? Oh no~~~~~~~~
> 
> I got exactly 1.5 hours of sleep last night, and according to the operational leadership training I took at work, that means I'm basically drunk. I think. Something like that. So this either is great or reallllllly sucks. Either way, pls have it. Tim deserves all the love, and he definitely deserves to not have his new little brother try to kill him. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting!! <3
> 
> [Cross posted to Tumblr](https://cdelphiki.tumblr.com/post/619452548619894784/bruce-felt-like-an-idiot-for-not-noticing-sooner)


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